


One Cold Night in October

by mitslits



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Crack-ish?, Demon!Harry - Freeform, Demonic Possession, Gen, clueless!eggsy, definitely not as serious as it could be, demon!Charlie, fighting so tagged for violence, parody-ish?, summoner!lee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8433352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/mitslits
Summary: The demon Haurus, better known as Harry, is ripped from his nice, comfortable spot in Hell to serve the whims of a pitiful mortal named Lee Unwin. He's not happy about this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is indeed a Kanye West reference and yes, Harry is indeed highly influenced by Jonathan Stroud's portrayal of Bartimaeus in the Bartimaeus Trilogy (which consists of four books and which you should most definitely read). Fight me. 
> 
> (for the record, pussy does not have me dead)

_ In. Out. Just. Keep. Breathing.  _

The words chug through his brain, turn into a mantra with every footfall. Air rattles through his chest, his lungs screaming for mercy. Still, he pushes forward, weaving through the trunks of the trees, desperately searching for anything that looks familiar. 

Something snaps behind him and Lee risks a glance over his shoulder. He doesn’t see anything, but that’s only to be expected. Shaking off the sound, he returns to his frantic race, gaze finally catching the twisted, blackened oak he’d set as his marker. 

With a sigh of pure relief, Lee turns towards it, stumbling into the small clearing beyond. Everything is exactly as he’d left it mere hours ago. He wastes no time, dropping to his knees between the roots of the oak and burrowing into the pile of leaves heaped there. He produces five black candles and an old matchbook. 

Lee sets each candle carefully, not daring to smudge even a single mark of his pentacle. Risky enough to carve it in soil already; he’ll not be taking any further chances.

When all five points are headed by flickering candles, he straightens. 

The sounds behind Lee grow louder, reminding him that the time he has is limited. 

Lee reaches into his pocket, drawing out the small knife he’d had stowed away. He’d managed to keep it hidden from Mr. King, not that that matters now. Their deal is crumbling in front of his eyes. He has to fix this. He breathes in deeply, closing his eyes as he places the blade against his open palm. The incantation springs to his lips as he draws the knife across his hand, its path traced in a thin line of blood. A few precious droplets fall uselessly to the ground and Lee kneels, pressing his hand onto the sigil he’d carved into the ground. 

The last word falls from his lips just as his blood fills the small groove and Lee opens his eyes. 

Everything is still, just as it was before. “Come on, come on,” Lee pleads under his breath, casting another nervous glance over his shoulder. It’s eerily silent now, no sound of his pursuer. 

A slight breeze stirs the leaves of the blackened oak. In seconds, the wind picks up, howling through the branches and whipping around the small figure in the clearing. Lee hunches against the biting chill but stands his ground, eyes going wide at the sight of the pentacle. The wind coalesces into the middle, the candles flickering ominously. Despite the gale they stay lit and Lee allows himself a small smile of victory. 

The wind dies as quickly as it began, leaving behind an immaculately dressed man trapped in the middle of the pentacle. An umbrella hangs off one arm and as Lee watches, he brushes an imaginary speck of dust off his perfectly tailored coat. When he finally looks up, his eyes flash red briefly before dying into a honeyed amber. “Lee Unwin, I presume.” 

“Er… yes. You’re… Are you Haurus?” The creature certainly doesn’t look or sound like any demon Lee has imagined, but the trick with the wind had been pretty impressive. 

The man executes a polite bow. “The same. But, please, call me Harry.” 

Lee shifts uncertainly, fighting the urge to take a step back. If it comes down to it, he’d rather contend with the danger he’s specifically brought here. “Harry, then,” he says. 

“ _ Adiuro vos hoc facere _ ,” Harry says slowly, the Latin rolling off his tongue. “I believe that was at the end of your incantation.” He nods towards the binding rune at Lee’s feet. “Tell me, then, what is it that you’d have me do?” 

Lee straightens his shoulders, facing the demon squarely. “Protect my family. Keep my son safe.”     


Harry smirks, extending one hand towards the edge of the pentacle. 

Reluctantly, Lee lays his bloody palm on top of Harry’s, energy tingling through his fingertips. “What are you taking?” he asks, feeling the demon slip into his mind. 

It takes a second for Harry to respond and, when he does, it’s with a wolfish smile. “Everything.” 

Lee shudders as Harry trawls through his memories, unearthing things he himself had forgotten. The experience leaves him trembling and feeling thoroughly exposed. His shoulder slump in relief as Harry withdraws his hand and Lee’s mind becomes his own again. 

“Well, you’ve made a right mess of this, haven’t you?” Harry says, an amused gleam in his eye. 

The snapping sounds from the forest return and Lee spins to look. 

A young man emerges into the clearing, pausing when he sees the scene before him. He hesitates slightly at the sight of Harry but, noting the pentacle, takes a few bold steps forwards. “You’ve only made it worse for yourself by running, Unwin. Chester was going to kill you himself,” he says, head tilting slightly to one side. “Now he’s turned you over to me. I have no interest in being merciful.”

Lee lifts his chin with a courage he doesn’t feel. At least Michelle and Eggsy will be taken care of. He’s made sure of that. “Haurus,” he says, “you’re dismissed.” 

Harry lifts a hand to wave a jaunty goodbye to the newest addition to their small party. Lee’s memories tell him his name is Charlie. Then Harry blows apart at the seams, the scream of the howling wind soon dying away. 

Left alone with Lee, Charlie growls, eyes changing to molten red and gleaming brightly in the darkness. A smirk slowly overtakes his face and he takes a step forwards. 

Lee edges backwards involuntarily, smudging the lines of his pentacle. His mouth has gone dry and his heart pounds wildly in his chest, but even so he curls his hands into fists. His nails bite into his palms, the sharp sting grounding him. Wordlessly he launches himself towards Charlie. 

Laughing, Charlie meets him head-on. Lee never stands a chance. 

*******************

Harry strolls into Chester King’s mansion, hands in his pockets, and a spring in his step. Terrible as it may be to be bound to the service of mortals, he has to admit the human world is at least interesting in small doses. It’s been a few centuries since he’s been here for any amount of time and they’ve been busy while he was gone. 

‘Their magic hasn’t improved much,’ Harry thinks, stepping easily past wards that are supposed to guard against the likes of him. They don’t do much more than set his skin tingling for a few seconds and then he’s through.

Voices echo from a nearby room and Harry takes the form of a shadow, creeping through corners until he reaches their source. 

A frail, older man sits enthroned in a velvet chair, glaring at the man from the clearing. “I assume the situation is taken care of,” he snaps. 

“Of course, Mr. King. He tried to put up a fight; it was rather amusing,” Charlie says, ducking his head to hide a smile. 

Chester waves off his comment airily. “And the boy?” 

“Still an infant. We should take care of him before he becomes a problem,” Charlie says. He eyes Chester warily, well aware he won’t like that bit of news. 

Sure enough, Chester’s lips tighten in disapproval. “Fine. It’s less than ideal, but that money is  _ mine _ . You’ll see that it gets taken care of, I trust?” Charlie nods and Chester turns away. “Good. You’re dismissed.” 

Charlie disappears in a puff of smoke, leaving a lingering smell of sulfur in his wake. 

Harry curls his lip in distaste. Demons these days. So theatrical. With that, he recedes further into the shadows and vanishes without a trace. 

************

‘Clearly,’ Harry thinks, ‘Unwin was much better at magic than Chester ever will be.’ He’s been watching Charlie struggle against the demonic wards for the past ten minutes, smile growing with Charlie’s frustration. 

Eventually, however, even this bores him. Harry masks his presence and glides through the door easily, the wards recognizing him as being under Lee’s command. He gives the flat a quick once-over, even though he already knows what he’ll find. Lee’s memories of this place are strong and Harry could make his way through it with his eyes closed if he had to. 

A woman who must be Michelle is draped on the sofa, glancing through the window every so often and worrying her lip. Harry suspects it won’t be long before she figures out something is amiss. He’d prefer to be far away from her when she does. 

Harry wanders into the master bedroom, drawing up beside the crib. He curls his lip slightly as he looks down on the baby sleeping within. “You humans,” he sighs, “so defenseless when you’re small.” 

The baby stirs slightly in his sleep, tiny fingers flexing open and closed before he settles again. 

How to protect something so small and easily taken? Harry glances around for inspiration, spotting a photograph on the nightstand. Lee, in some sort of uniform. Must hold some meaning for the humans he can’t discern. Still, the getup gives Harry an idea and he leaves the flat as easily as he came, smirking at Charlie’s futile efforts as he passes. 

When he returns, it’s in a more substantial form, one visible to the human eye. Charlie, thankfully, has finally buggered off. Harry stops briefly in front of the door, adopts a sober expression, and knocks quietly. 

The door opens almost immediately, Michelle’s relieved face popping into view. Her expression falls as soon as she takes in the sight of an unfamiliar man on her doorstep. “Who’re you?” she asks, swinging the door closed until only a sliver of her is visible. 

“Mrs. Unwin?” At her wary nod, Harry continues. “I’m Harry. Hart. A former colleague of Lee’s… May I come in?” 

Michelle takes a second to deliberate before stepping back and holding the door in invitation. 

Harry nods his thanks, slipping into the sitting room and having a little look around as if it was his first time in the place. 

“Go on and sit down,” Michelle says, gesturing to the sofa. “Can I make you some tea or anythin’?” She oscillates between the kitchen and the sitting room, looking altogether uncertain. 

Harry waves away the request, taking a seat gracefully. “I’m fine, thank you. Though if you would like something for yourself, I’m happy to wait.” 

With a small shake of her head, Michelle perches on the edge of the sofa cushion furthest from Harry. “You said you knew Lee?” she prompts, folding one hand over the other to keep them still. 

“He and I were in the Marines together, briefly. We got on quite well together and we kept in touch after I dropped out of the class,” Harry says. 

Michelle narrows her eyes. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” 

“Harry,” Harry tells her, one eyebrow arching. 

“Funny,” Michelle muses. “It’s just that he never mentioned you.” 

Harry buries a smirk. He likes this woman already. There’s little doubt in his mind that she’s aware of what’s out there in the world, which at least sets her a step above most people. He clears his throat and shrugs one shoulder. “Yes, well, I’m sure you had better things to talk about than old acquaintances. Mrs. Unwin… have you heard from your husband recently?” Harry asks, injecting just the right amount of concern into his voice. 

It works like a charm. Michelle pales, balling her hands into the fabric of her skirt. “No, not since two nights ago. Why? Have you-?” 

“I received a visit last night from the Royal Marines. I was quite surprised as you might be able to guess; I would have assumed his personal effects would have gone to you.” As he speaks, Harry pulls out a small medal from his inside coat pocket. “There wasn’t much. A few articles of clothing that I can bring over if you would like them. And this. I was instructed to give it to an ‘Eggsy’. I thought you might have some idea who that was.” He holds the medal out to her, a small pink circle crossed with a gold-braided K. 

Michelle furrows her brow as she looks back, glancing between it and Harry’s solemn face. “Are you puttin’ me on?” she asks, voice thin. 

Harry shakes his head once. “I only wish I was.” 

And there it comes. Everything Harry had been trying to avoid. Michelle’s face crumples and she buries her face in her hands, body shaking with suppressed sobs. After a second, she raises tear-stained eyes to Harry. “How did he die?” she whispers. 

“In the service of his country. I’m afraid that’s all I know, Mrs. Unwin.” Harry reaches out a hand to place on her shoulder, but the look she gives him has him drawing it back to his side. He shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat once more. “I won’t bother you any further. If you could just make sure this gets to Eggsy…” He offers out the medal, watching her expectantly. 

For a second, Harry thinks MIchelle will refuse to take it. Then she reaches out and snatches it from him, holding it close to her chest. “Get out of my house,” she says quietly. 

_‘Gladly.’_ Without another word, Harry exits the flat. 

If anyone had been looking out their window at the top floor of the council estate they would have seen a curious thing. A smartly-dressed man steps out of one of the flats, takes a quick glance around, and disappears into thin air. 

*********

Time passes far too slowly in the mortal world. Everything takes ages, days and weeks and months dragging by in a seemingly endless parade of pointlessness. Harry is there for every agonizing minute of it. 

Occasionally, there’s a brief burst of excitement when Charlie tries an attack, but more often than not the medal wards it off, deflecting the magic before it can do Eggsy any harm. Whenever that isn’t enough, Harry is there. Most of the time his mere presence is enough to put Charlie off; Harry’s a few tiers above him and Charlie can sense it, shrinking back before even attempting anything. 

Harry amuses himself with the shifting life of the Unwins; it’s not exactly entertaining, but it’s all he has. There are one or two snags in the road that keep it from being  _ completely _ dull. At one point, Michelle brings home Dean, a real piece of work. Harry keeps mostly out of his hair until things get physical. Then Harry’s directive of ‘protect my family’ kicks in, and he sees to it that Dean has a rather nasty accident on the way home one evening. 

But Harry’s relative peace can’t last forever. 

Eggsy is 25 and he stumbles into his flat with a young woman about his age, hair hanging in wet strands around her face, Eggsy’s jacket draped around her shoulders. 

Harry sits up on the sofa, unnoticed by the humans, curiosity piqued. He doesn’t recognize this girl. 

“Gimme a mo and I’ll have the kettle on,” Eggsy says reassuringly, guiding her over near the sofa and helping her to sit. 

She draws the jacket a bit further around her shoulders, shivering slightly. “You don’t have to do all this, you know. I won’t die from a bit of rain.” Still, she leans back into the cushions and closes her eyes.

Harry leans forward to get a better look at her and could almost swear she stiffens. He narrows his eyes and reaches out one hand cautiously, fingers hovering just above her arm. 

It’s at that moment that Eggsy pops back into the room, two mugs in hand. “What’d you say your name was?” he asks, offering one out to her. 

Her eyes flicker open and she accepts it, curling both hands around it. “Roxanne. But I prefer Roxy.” 

“Gary. But I prefer Eggsy,” Eggsy says, settling in beside her. 

With a huff of indignation, Harry vacates the now-crowded sofa. He throws himself into the armchair instead, glaring at Roxy through narrowed eyes. There’s something about her that doesn’t sit well with him, but he can’t make out what it is. 

“Eggsy, then,” Roxy says, interrupting herself to take a sip of tea. “I only have to wait a half hour. My driver is always punctual.” 

Eggsy shrugs one shoulder. “Well, you can wait your half hour in here. You’d already been out there long enough to get soaked through,” he points out, gesturing to her limp hair. 

Roxy brushes it back out of her face, giving him a rueful smile. “I suppose you’re right.” 

Their conversation takes a turn for the even duller and Harry tunes them out, focusing on the niggling feeling he gets every time he looks at Roxy. 

The strange uneasiness doesn’t go away until Roxy looks at her watch and glances out the window, flipping the curtain out of the way. “See? Just as I told you. Punctual as ever.” She stands, setting the mug on the coffee table. 

Eggsy stands with her, walking her to the door and opening it for her. 

Roxy pauses in the doorway, smiling up at him. “Thank you again, for everything.”

With that, she’s gone, taking Harry’s uneasiness with her. 

Of course that can’t be the end of it. Roxy becomes a normal fixture in Eggsy’s life after that. They stay up all hours of the night texting and she comes around to the flat more often than not. 

Harry notes that she never invites Eggsy over to hers and it only intensifies his wariness. He studies her intently, watching every move she makes to see if she puts a foot wrong even once. To his unending irritation, she never does. 

Weeks snowball into months and Roxy’s presence becomes nothing more than a dull ache in Harry’s mind. He can’t help but dislike her; she still exhausts him after all, dragging Eggsy off to all manner of places that Harry would rather not go. Operas are exceedingly tedious, horse races even more so, but Eggsy goes to them all willingly enough. 

Roxy offers him a taste of a life he couldn’t ever hope to have and he jumps at the chances. 

“Oh, you must come. I’ll look awfully silly if I show up by myself after I asked for a plus one,” Roxy says coaxingly, one hand resting on Eggsy’s arm, pleading eyes looking up into his face. 

Harry jerks himself from his thoughts back into the present, trying to run through the previous conversation. Some invitation to something or other, but he can’t for the life of him recall what. Thankfully he doesn’t have to wonder long. 

Eggsy screws his mouth up, shrugging one shoulder. “I dunno, Rox. Fancy balls ain’t really my thing.” 

Roxy keeps ahold of his arm, leaning against him as they stroll along the pavement. “It’s a masquerade, no one will even know who you are. I’ll introduce you as my mysterious friend from foreign lands, if you like,” she offers, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

Snorting, Eggsy finally glances down at her, smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Foreign lands sound about right. I ain’t gonna fit in there,” he says. 

Pouting, Roxy releases him. “Fine, leave me on my own then. I don’t suppose you’ll pay for the tux I rented for you either.” She sighs dramatically. 

Eggsy can’t help but laugh. “Payin’ for your presumptuousness? I don’t think so.” 

Roxy elbows him in the side but she’s fighting back a smile. “What do you say? We’d only have to stay for a couple hours, just so we could say we went. You  _ might _ even have fun.”    


Harry internally begs Eggsy to say no. He has no interest in spending even a few hours in a small space packed to the gills with humans. Sharing the flat with Eggsy is bad enough. 

But Eggsy rolls his eyes skyward and gives in. “Fine. But only cause it’s a shame to waste a nice tux and all.” 

********************

“That man, in the corner,” Harry whispers to Eggsy and has the pleasure of seeing him respond for once. 

Blue-green eyes meet amber brown through the holes in their masks, one pair startled, the other knowing. Then they’re whisked away from each other as the music and the dance continue. Seconds later, Harry swings by Eggsy again, leans down to whisper to him once more. 

“He’s watching you.” Harry nods his head in the observer’s direction and Eggsy’s eyes obediently follow, brow wrinkling in confusion at the masked figure. 

Harry had been able to tell the moment Roxy appeared at Eggsy’s door that evening that something had changed. No wave of unease had rippled over him, no intrinsic need to be wary. Everything had been perfectly normal and that set alarm bells ringing. Immediately he’d set about looking for a difference but there had still been  _ nothing _ and it irked him to no end.

Now the answer is staring him in the face. Or rather, it is staring at Eggsy’s face. 

Charlie leans casually up against the wall, hidden behind his mask, tracking Eggsy as he moves across the ballroom floor. 

Harry curses himself for not having seen it sooner. In his defense, he hasn’t seen demonic possession for centuries, so maybe it’s understandable why he would miss some of the signs. Still, he should have been able to tell that Roxy hadn’t been entirely human over the past few months. 

She is tonight, laughing and whirling around with Eggsy without a care in the world. 

They’ve played right into Charlie’s hands, Harry and Eggsy have. Charlie had burrowed his way into their life like a tapeworm, right under Harry’s watchful eye. 

Harry unconsciously tightens his grip on his unfortunate dance partner, some older woman, one of the rich aunts mulling about the party. Nothing more to Harry than a means to speak subtly with Eggsy. He can’t let Charlie know he’s onto him. 

“Excuse me, I’m feeling a bit faint,” Harry says to his partner as the music draws to a close. With a polite nod he leaves her to herself, weaving his way through the crowd until he’s able to spot Eggsy again. 

Eggsy is chatting animatedly with Roxy, seemingly none the worse for his strange encounter on the dance floor. 

As Harry approaches him, he notices Charlie push off from his position and start slipping through the crowd towards them. Harry pushes through the partygoers with a combination of elbows and determination, reaching Eggsy just as Charlie does. Harry places a possessive hand on Eggsy’s shoulder, leaning forward to mutter in his ear when the boy jumps. “Careful of him.” 

Then Charlie is upon them and Harry draws back, grateful for the mask that hides him, a smirk on his face as he settles in to watch the fun. 

To Harry’s surprise, Charlie focuses on Roxy first, grinning brilliantly at her. “Glad to see you, Roxy. The way you talked made it seem as if you weren’t coming.” 

Roxy shrugs one shoulder. “My plus one decided to come so I wouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s him you have to thank.” She turns to Eggsy, patting him agreeably on the arm. 

Charlie offers out a hand. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure. Charlie Hesketh, at your service.” 

Eggsy glances uncertainly back at Harry, lips twitching as if he has something to say. If he does, he swallows it down and turns instead to face Charlie, accepting his hand and giving it a firm shake. “Eggsy.” He casts another look over his shoulder, troubled eyes meeting Harry’s. 

Taking that as his cue, Harry slinks forward and dramatically tosses away his mask. “I have to say, I’m a little impressed. I wasn’t sure you would ever find a way to get the boy to your mansion, but you seem to have done it quite neatly.” The fact that he could have done it at all eats away at Harry but he doesn’t let any of his frustration show, instead pasting a smirk on his face. 

Charlie’s smile drops instantly and his narrows his eyes behind his mask. “How the fuck did you get in here?” 

Roxy and Eggsy exchange baffled looks. 

“You blokes want to tell me what the hell’s goin’ on here? Startin’ with who you are?” Eggsy demands, glaring at Harry. 

“Tell me, Eggsy,” Harry says, not taking his eyes off Charlie, “did you happen to wear that medallion of yours tonight?” 

Eggsy doesn’t intend on answering but he lifts his hand to his throat, betraying himself.

Charlie’s eyes follow the movement and he scowls. 

“Good,” Harry says with a decisive nod. “Try and keep it on.” With that, he launches himself at Charlie. 

Charlie jerks backwards, crying out in surprise as Harry slams into him, forcing him backwards even as he reaches for the medal around Eggsy’s neck. 

Faceless partygoers shriek and throw themselves out of the way, glancing around as if seeking answers from someone. 

Harry lands a solid blow to Charlie’s gut, leaves him doubled over and gasping for air before disappearing into thin air. He reappears at Eggsy’s shoulder. “That would have been your cue to start running,” he mutters drily. 

Eggsy gapes up at him, darting a glance back at where Harry had just been standing. “How the  _ fuck _ did you-”    


“Now is really not the time,” Harry snaps, gripping Eggsy none-too-gently around the arm and hauling him towards the door. 

Their progress is arrested by the sudden surge of bodies in that general direction, screams echoing around them. 

Baffled, Harry half-turns. Before he has time to do anything more, a blurred form tackles him, bringing him heavily to the ground. All the air leaves his lungs in a rush. 

Charlie rears up above him, eyes pure black, smoke curling around a pair of leather wings jutting from his back. 

Clawed hands wrap around Harry’s throat and his vision blurs at the edges, reminds him of just how damn fragile this human form is. Summoning his strength, Harry surges upwards, feeling the skin of his throat shred painfully. Still, his head connects solidly with the bridge of Charlie’s nose. A rush of satisfaction runs through Harry when the grip around his throat and the weight on his chest disappears and he’s allowed to sit up freely. 

Blood runs in rivulets down the side of Harry’s neck and his head spins as he tries to find his feet. “Shit,” he rasps. Chester’s wards, however ineffective they might be at keeping him out, are weakening him, have been since he first stepped foot in the house hours ago. Facing Charlie on his own turf isn’t the best idea Harry has ever had, but he’s committed now. 

When Harry manages to get his wits about him he finds Charlie looming over Eggsy, grin positively wicked. Charlie’s hand flashes out, winding around the medal. 

The protection runes flare to life, blasting Charlie backwards and sending him crumpling to the ground. 

Eggsy shouts, tearing at the medal in an attempt to get it off. 

“No, Eggsy, don’t-” Harry starts, staggering towards him. Blood pulses from his wound with every word and he internally curses. 

But he’s too late. Eggsy snaps the chain, hurling the medal away from him blindly. 

It clatters off in a corner, the sound alerting Charlie. He lifts his head, eyes immediately finding Eggsy. 

“You bloody idiot,” Harry swears, forcing himself to move. He’s almost to Eggsy when someone throws herself into his path. Outstretched hands slam into his chest and he finds himself breathless for the second time in as many minutes. He recognizes Roxy in an instant, her eyes glazed over with a black film. 

Charlie chuckles harshly, already limping towards Eggsy. “You lose this round, Haurus. I can imagine the boy’s death will be just as painful for you as it is for him.” 

Eggsy retreats as Charlie advances, nearly shaking with fear. “What’s goin’ on? What do I do?” He looks at Harry desperately, lost. 

Harry feints to one side, trying to skirt around Roxy on the other but she has demonic power on her side and catches him around the wrist, squeezing with supernatural strength. “Very well, then,” Harry mutters through gritted teeth. “Eggsy! Repeat after me. Ego te invitem est corpus meum, Haurus. Say it  _ now _ .”     


Eggsy babbles out a truly horrendous pronunciation of the Latin, but it does the trick. 

With a sigh, Harry dissipates. His consciousness returns a second later and he quickly untangles it from Eggsy’s. He’d rather not have to deal with any lingering humanity when this is all over. Harry feels the jolt as Eggsy realizes what’s happened and curls himself lazily into one corner of Eggsy’s mind. ‘ _ Roomy in here, isn’t it? _ ’

“What the fuck?” Eggsy asks aloud, seemingly not realizing it’s unnecessary. 

Charlie whips his head around to find Roxy guarding empty space. He scowls when he looks back at Eggsy. Mortal vessels tend to be much harder to kill when fused with otherworldly inhabitants. “Afraid you wouldn’t be able to beat me on your own, Haurus?” Charlie sneers, wings rustling in irritation. 

Harry attempts to tell Charlie exactly where he can stick it but Eggsy stubbornly refuses to lend him control of his muscles. ‘ _ You’re supposed to be fighting him not me,’ _ Harry thinks sourly, the words skittering through Eggsy’s head. 

“I ain’t supposed to be fighting anyone,” Eggsy protests, realizing a second too late that he’s spoken aloud again. Gathering himself, he takes another large step backwards, eying Charlie warily.  _ ‘You still owe me a helluva explanation, bruv.’  _

Harry sighs gustily but it somewhat loses its effect without an accompanying eyeroll and he finds himself somewhat missing a mortal form. They did have  _ some _ advantages, however few.  _ ‘Perhaps we can focus on that _ after  _ we take care of the demon trying to kill you.’ _     


As if he too is privy to their inner monologue, Charlie chooses that moment to lunge forwards, clawed hands outstretched. 

Eggsy responds automatically, flinching backwards, and Harry takes advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration to seize control of his body. 

Harry feels a thrill rush round him, not at all dampened by Eggsy’s indignant  _ ‘fuck off!’ _     


_ ‘Oh, hush, I’m the one who’ll actually keep us alive,’ _ Harry thinks smugly. He doesn’t have to wait long to prove it, either. Charlie’s on them again before Eggsy’s body has time to draw breath and Harry throws them to the side, somersaulting off to the side and coming up in a crouch. 

_ ‘Impressive,’ _ flashes through Eggsy’s mind, but he quickly buries it under a mental huff of indignation. 

Harry smirks.  _ ‘I heard that.’ _

Charlie throws out his wings to correct himself, swinging around to face the fused pair. “Do me a favor and hold him still. We both know you don’t like being trapped on this world any more than I do.” 

Something catches the corner of Harry’s eye but he forces his gaze to stay trained on Charlie. “I’d rather not fail my charge. But thanks for the offer.” He doesn’t wait for a response, instead diving for the small medal he’d seen glinting in the corner. 

With a roar, Charlie leaps after them, flapping his wings for an extra burst of speed. 

Eggsy’s hand closes around the medal just as Charlie slams into them. Air rushes out of their lungs, leaving them gasping and winded, sprawled on the floor. 

Charlie is on them in a second, digging his knee into Eggsy’s chest and raising a hand, ready to swipe his claws across his throat and bring everything Harry had worked for to an end. 

Harry smashes their hand into Charlie’s face open-palmed, plastering the medal onto it. 

There’s the faint smell of burning flesh and Harry swears he even hears sizzling flesh underneath Charlie’s shrieks of pain. 

Charlie falls back, clawing at his face, desperately trying to escape the pain. His wings flap desperately to help him keep his balance. 

Harry doesn’t hesitate, sliding out from under Charlie and grasping one of his wings in their hands. He darts behind him, planting one foot in the small of his back and forcing him facedown onto the ground. Leaning down, he snatches up the other wing, holding one victoriously in each hand. “Sorry, Charlie,” he drawls, bearing down harder as Charlie squirms beneath him. “I’m afraid Eggsy won’t be joining you just yet.”

Ignoring the garbled pleas and curses, Harry lifts his foot and brings it smartly down on the back of Charlie’s skull. Bone cracks sharply and the form beneath them falls still. 

Harry relinquishes control of Eggsy’s body, retreating to the part of his mind allotted to him. 

Instantly Eggsy collapses, retching emptily. 

_ ‘What’s all that for?’ _ Harry thinks, watching the proceedings with distaste. 

Eggsy absently wishes he had someone to glare at, hauling himself onto his knees.  _ ‘What the fuck do you think it’s for? I just  _ killed  _ someone.’  _

_ ‘Nonsense. I killed someone using your body. Hardly your fault.’  _

Eggsy doesn’t seem to buy it.  _ ‘Get the hell out of my head.’ _

Harry sighs at that, as much as he can in his current state.  _ ‘Ah, yes. About that. Once one of my kind gives up their mortal form it’s quite difficult to retrieve it. I’m afraid it would take far more time than we currently have to build another one from scratch.’  _

_ ‘One of your kind?”  _ Eggsy thinks, someone managing to sound small. 

A small spark of pity has Harry relenting.  _ ‘I suppose I do owe you an explanation, don’t I?’ He doesn’t wait for the confirmation he’s sure of receiving, barrelling onwards determinedly. ‘Lee Unwin, your father, he was involved in something of the occult. From my understanding, he eventually got around to being some sort of supernatural bounty hunter. A deal went sour and Charlie, our dearly departed hitman, was hired to kill both you and your father so their employer could keep his money. And you mortals think _ we’re  _ despicable.’    
_

Harry could feel Eggsy trying to process it all and, for once, kept quiet. 

Then, very quietly, Eggsy asked out loud, “You knew my father?” 

_ ‘Oh, Christ,’ _ Harry thinks and once again finds himself missing roll-able eyes. ‘Barely.  _ I  _ barely  _ knew your father. And what little I saw of him, I don’t really have anything good to say. He ripped me from my home and brought me here to be your babysitter for the last 25 bloody years. Now if you’d be so kind as to release me, I can get out of your hair and neither of us will have to deal with the other again for what is, most likely, a very long time.’  _

For a moment, Harry thinks that Eggsy won’t agree. That he’ll find some bullshit reason to keep him around for the next few decades. If he has to stay here for much longer, Harry thinks, he’s going to lose his mind. The mortal world had lost what little interest it held for him long ago and maybe a few centuries back in Hell will be enough to sate him until he’s summoned again, if he leaves within the next few minutes. 

But Eggsy only sighs and gets to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. “You’ll have to tell me how to do that. I’m a little new to this whole… demon thing.”

  
_ ‘Of course,’ _ Harry thinks, relief coursing through him like a flood.  _ ‘All it will take is a little more Latin…’  _


End file.
